A Rite of Passage
by aachannoichi
Summary: It is January 30th, 1979, Albert Wesker's 19th birthday and Sir Spencer is bestowing his greatest gift upon Albert. Some how his life and future will never be the same. (Unfinished)


A Rite of Passage

Oswell Spencer looked through the thick manila file one last time before setting it down on his desk. He had scrutinized every sentence in the file with a fine tooth comb. Doctor's reports, dentist's records, psychological profiles, old report cards, letters of recommendation, physician reports, interviews with instructors, classmates, and colleagues. Despite every flawless record, report, or interview given about him, Oswell still had lingering doubts about this particular specimen. Oswell looked at the file labeled Specimen Number 013 and sighed. It was true, Specimen 013 had a pedigree as long as his arm, but was he good enough to be one of his elite chosen children? Also, would he survive after injecting the Prototype Virus or end up another useless corpse just like the other eleven candidates?

Specimen number 012 barely survived his ordeal with the Prototype Virus. For days he lingered with an extremely high fever which when it broke, and Specimen 012 was still alive to tell the tale, was a huge relief to Spencer. However, what followed was a two year span which left him frail and somewhat disoriented at times. The doctors observing him said in spite of the occasional listlessness and disorientation he would survive. Nevertheless with Specimen 012 still in recovery nearly three years later and no other candidates available after Specimen 013, a lot of Oswell's hopes and dreams rested on the shoulders of the thirteenth's survival.

He was hoping to have more children under his control by now, but the process of finding perfect "parents" was difficult. Not everyone on earth possessed superior intelligence, which was a huge problem with the world and the reason behind his necessity for these elite children to survive. Without them to lead his daring new world, humanity would be doomed to idiocy and indolence. And therein was the very core of this program, to save humanity from itself and to have Spencer as its sovereign master. There were far too many people incapable of rational logical thought breeding and creating more mindless dullards, it was truly disgusting to witness and the Wesker Project would put an end to all of that.

Oswell got up from his desk and walked over to a large refrigerated glass cabinet, which was hidden behind an enormous wall painting. Peering anxiously through the glass he looked at the final vile labeled UPV-F013-01301979. Today was a historic day. The last of the Wesker Children would go from childhood to manhood in this final rite of passage, and there would be no turning back after this moment.

"It is time to wrap his birthday present." Oswell said to himself softly.

Albert opened his eyes and looked over at the calendar that hung on his wall. Thanks to that fool Birkin today's date was circled in bright red marker ink; Tuesday, January 30, 1979, his nineteenth birthday. Albert could really care less about his birthday. For as long as he could remember, birthdays never really held a special place in his heart. Grant it, his parents would always lavish him with anything he asked for and indulged his every whim on his birthday, but material things never meant a whole lot to him. Of the thousands of gifts he received over the years, his most cherished present was his first chemistry set at six years old, which he still kept at his parent's house to this day.

However, since he began working for the Umbrella Corporation, it was his employer, Oswell E. Spencer who indulged his every whim and spoiled him even beyond what his own parents did; anything he could possibly want or need was given to him with no questions asked. Albert couldn't help but feel a little like a teacher's pet when it came to Spencer's generosity, but who was he to stop Spencer from spending his money. So he graciously accepted the gifts and made sure when Spencer was around to brandish them accordingly.

It was odd, he always felt much closer to Spencer than his own parents. True, Dr. Lawrence and his wife PhD. Eilidh Wesker were good people and astute parents, but the only time he ever felt settled and secure was when he was near Spencer. Albert never had those feelings towards anyone before, so it was rather anomalous, especially considering he had only met the old man about two years ago before he graduated from college.

Spencer had come up to him at a bioengineering conference; Albert's famous senior thesis on the growing field of virology as well as its impact on society had just been published and was making quite the impression on the scientific community when Spencer offered him the position at the Umbrella Executive Training Facility. It was a position to be proud of and Albert eagerly jumped at the opportunity and was more grateful than words could state. Despite his gratitude, there was something that bothered him about the exceedingly warm almost loving feelings he had toward Spencer. It seemed implausible for him to want to follow around the old man like a puppy dog and feeling lost without his guidance. Nonetheless, Albert attributed to the old man's compassion and generosity, nothing more.

Sitting up in his bed, Albert looked out of the window; it was a cold snowy morning at the Arklay Research Lab. Gentle white snowflakes blew past his window and the glass was covered in frost. It was a good day to go up to the Arklay Mountain ski lodge and hit the slopes, but alas, he had a full day of work. He had to sit with Dr. Marcus today and run another gene splicing experiment with the Ebola virus. Those experiments could last anywhere from two hours to five hours, depending on whatever else Dr. Marcus planned on doing. Afterwards, he had a marathon of meetings that would stretch into the early evening.

Sometimes it was difficult being so young and the head researcher of a massive facility such as this one. There were times where Albert wanted to go off to do something pleasurable to get his mind off his work, but there weren't enough hours in the day as it was, so frivolities had to be pushed aside if this project was going to be a success. Stretching, Albert tossed the blankets off his body and walked toward his bathroom to prepare himself for the long day ahead.

About thirty minutes later, Albert was standing in front of the long length mirror looking himself over for the day. Today he opted to wear a nice suit underneath his crisp white lab coat instead of his normal dark turtleneck sweater and dress pants. He had just finished tying a perfect Windsor knot in his necktie when a knock came at his door. Briefly looking at his watch he noted the time.

"8:30." He remarked softly to himself. "Right on time as usual."

Albert walked over to the door and opened it wide. On the other side of the door was William Birkin with his usual cheerful smile clutching a white oblong box with a velvet red bow tied around it.

"Good morning William." Albert said with practically no emotion in his voice.

"Happy Birthday Albert." William said cheerfully handing him a neatly wrapped box.

"Thank you William." Albert said taking the box out of William's hands and placing it on his desk.

"It's from Mr. Spencer." William said cheerfully. "He left it for me to give to you."

"Really." Albert answered emotionlessly.

"Aren't you going to open it?" William asked.

"I'll open it later." Albert answered softly as he walked away from the desk.

"He always gives the best gifts." William said stepping into Albert's room. "I wonder what he's gotten you this time."

"I have no idea." Albert answered as he walked back over to the mirror to further scrutinize his attire for the day.

"You're not even a little curious about it?" William asked anxiously. "Last year he brought you a gold Rolex."

"Yes." Albert said as he continued to primp himself.

"And the year before that he brought you a Mercedes Benz." William continued. "And that was in addition to getting the highly expensive equipment we needed for our experiments as well."

"Indeed." Albert said coolly as he brushed his short blonde hair.

"It has to be something really spectacular Albert." William said staring at the box hoping Albert would open it up. "I can't believe you're going to just let that box sit there."

"Would it make you feel better if I opened it William?" Albert questioned.

"Yes it would." William answered anxiously.

Suppressing the urge to sigh, Albert complied with William's wishes. Albert untied the red ribbon from the box then carefully pealed back the snowy white wrapping paper. When the minor task was completed, Albert tossed the wrappings and ribbon into a nearby wastepaper basket, then opened the lid. Inside was a letter addressed to William.

"A letter for you?" Albert questioned as he handed the envelope to William.

William took the envelope and opened it up to began to read the message out loud.

"Dear William." He began. "Inside this box is the greatest present that Albert will ever receive. I want you to watch over him as he ascends into manhood. Sincerely, Sir Oswald E. Spencer."

Perplexed by the contents of Sir Spencer's letter Albert removed the paper from the box and peered strangely at the content of the box.

"What do you think this is all about Albert?" William asked as he glanced over the letter a few more times trying to decipher its cryptic message.

"He wants me to inject myself with this…" Albert answered softly.

William looked up from the letter and over to Albert who was holding a syringe filled with a pink liquid. William's blue eyes widened in fear, he knew exactly what was in the vile. He couldn't believe what Albert was holding, nor could he believe Mr. Spencer wanted him to inject the prototype virus.

"Wh…" William stammered. "Wha- What do you intend to do Albert?"

Albert stared at the syringe in his hand, he didn't have an answer for Birkin. If Spencer wanted him to inject himself with this, then he would have no other choice then to comply with his wishes. However, this could mean the end of his life if he did. From everything he knew about it, the Prototype Virus was wildly unstable. There were varying strains of it and depending on which strain this was, to inject one's self could result in either a violent mutation or instant death. Also as far as he knew it had not been tested with any living creature outside of the handful leaches Dr. Marcus used on them. Who knows how the virus would react inside a live human subject?

"Albert?" William questioned again. "What are you going to do?"

"Cancel all my appointments." Albert said sternly. "Then meet me in Lab three."

"You can't be serious?!" William exclaimed.

"Just do it!" Albert commanded.

William saw the resolute look in Albert's dual colored eyes, it was a look he was well acquainted with once he had made a decision and nothing would sway his decision. With a sigh, William turned to walk out of Albert's bedroom. As he grabbed the door knob, he looked back at Albert and said, "Don't do anything hasty before we meet again."

Albert looked over at William and did not answer him. He just nodded his head, while William walked out of the door.

Nearly a half hour later, Albert was sitting on the operating table in the third basement lab. He had removed his suit and exchanged it for more comfortable pair of running pants and a grey tee-shirt. The syringe was on the instrument table waiting for the moment when Birkin would come in and inject Albert with its contents. Albert stared off into space as he waited for Birkin to arrive. His mind was surprisingly blank, considering the gravity of what was about to take place. Once Birkin injected him with the prototype virus, chances were high that he would succumb to the virus, yet he had no fears or regrets. His life has been one of great privilege and one he was happy to have lived, even if it was for only nineteen brief years. Besides, if the research on the prototype virus could be expanded by his death then it would be more than worth the final result and he could happily go to his grave knowing that his ultimate contribution would not have been in vein.

A moment later, William opened the door and walked in looking sullen. As he closed the door, he walked over to the operating table where Albert was sitting, he could not believe how resolute he looked in his decision to do this.

"Albert…" William said softly. "You don't have to do this."

"I want to." He answered firmly.

"Why?" William asked.

"It is my duty as a scientist." Albert said decisively.

"Yes, but dying for a discovery is not part of that." William retorted sharply.

"You will not change my mind William." Albert said with a cold resolve in his baritone voice. "So let's get started."

"Fine!" William snapped. "But let me formally state that I think what you are doing is foolish and I don't understand how you could throw your life away so easily. Nor will I ever forgive Spencer for making you do this."

"Noted." Albert said ignoring Birkin's protest. "Shall we begin?"

Exasperated, William stormed off to grab the monitor and electrodes to attach to Albert's body. While Birkin was busy preparing to begin the test, Albert took off his dark grey tee-shirt shirt and lay down on the uncomfortable operating table. William rolled the heavy computer monitoring system over to the operating table and sat it close to Albert. Untangling the long chord, William plugged in the monitor, while he was waiting for the system to spring to life, he began to attach the electrodes to Albert's chest, biceps, and forehead.

"I'll need to monitor your lung and kidney functions too." William said softly.

Albert immediately sat up and let William place a couple of electrodes to his center and lower back.

"Before you lay down again, I have to take your vital statistics." William said.

"Be my guest." Albert said.

William worked quickly to take down all of Albert's vital information. His heart rate was normal and his lungs sounded clear. His blood pressure was surprising low for someone who could possibly die within the hour. In addition to these items, William drew a few vials of Albert's blood to analyze the before and after effects of the virus. When he was finished, William instructed Albert to lay down upon the gurney, so the virus could be administered.

"I…" William paused, almost gagging on his words. "I have to strap you down to the operating table."

"Do what you must." Albert said in a still unyielding voice.

William grabbed the first restraint at Albert's ankles and buckled it tightly. Then he walked up to the knee restraints and strapped him down firmly. Next came the waist buckles, which he made quick work of; then Albert took his left arm and placed it on the small arm table and he waited for William to strap his arm down, which he did.

"This is madness Albert!" William exclaimed. "Why are you making me to go through with this?"

"William!" Albert said beginning to get angry at Birkin's hesitation. "You don't have a choice. So stop your whining and do what you must!"

William made quick work of the rest of the straps. After that task was completed, he prepared the intravenous drips for Albert's right arm, which he place into his veins. When all the preparations were complete, William walked back over to Albert's left side and sighed. He looked at the syringe and then at his friend who lay prostrate on the operating table. He couldn't believe what he was about to do, nor could he believe that his best friend would haphazardly discard his life like this, but if this was truly what he wanted then he would comply.

"If anything goes wrong Albert…" William's voice cracked a little as he began. "I… I will turn on the nerve gas and it will… It will kill you in a matter of minutes."

"I understand." He replied.

With a sigh William picked up the syringe then turned to Albert's arm. His hands were shaking, his breathing was very unsteady, and his stomach was in knots. Never in his sixteen years had he ever been so nervous, but he had to overcome his apprehensions if he was going to do this properly. Taking a deep breath in and slowly exhaling, William leaned over Albert's left arm to find a healthy vein to inject. It didn't take long for him to find a perfect one, so he placed the tip of the syringe into his arm, but hesitated to insert it into his skin.

"You know." Albert said as he seemingly stared through Birkin. "I would do this myself if my arm wasn't strapped down."

William exhaled again and tried to concentrate on the task at hand. Taking hold of his fragile emotions, William steadied his hand and began to place the tip of the needle into Albert's arm, he could feel his alabaster skin give way under the sharp needle's point. Quickly finding his nerve, William reluctantly squeezed down on the plunger and forced the pink liquid into Albert's body. Once the syringe was empty, William quickly removed the needle and placed a nearby cotton ball over the wound, then secured it with first aid tape.

"How…" William hesitated, but then spoke. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine." Albert answered in that same still unwavering voice he always had.

William quickly picked up his clipboard with all of Albert's vitals and other information and prepared to walk out of the operating room and over to the observation room on the other side. Before he left, he looked over to Albert one more time and his heart sank into the pit of his stomach. He was still in disbelief of what had just taken place as he closed the laboratory room door. Once the door closed William struggled to pull himself together. Tears streamed out of his ocean blue eyes and he began to sob softly. Clutching his clipboard as though it was a teddy bear, William slowly walked over to the observation room and opened the door.

Slowly walking into the observation room, William turned on the light and took his place in front of the two-way mirror and large computer that was monitoring Albert's vitals. William wanted so desperately to run away and hide. He sentenced his only friend to death and even worse he had to sit and watch him come to a slow painful demise as well. The thought of it made William want to curl into a tiny ball and sob uncontrollably, but he had a job to do and he would be determined to complete it to the best of his ability.


End file.
